Caleb’s lips turn downward, as if that wasn’t the reaction he expected. I go back through his words, picking up on the one detail I should’ve focused on in the first place.
“Wait. You have a reservation for the North Pole Hut? Like you were planning on us getting snowed in and sleeping there alonetogether?”
“No!” His hands immediately fly up in innocence. “Not alone. The hut sleeps eight people. I just reserved three spots on the off chance we didn’t make it down the mountain before the storm hit. It was a backup plan.”
“But now it’stheplan?”
“You said yourself you don’t want to die out here. And we won’t be alone. I’m sure whoever else reserved the other five spots will be here soon. We just got here first.”
“The whole thing seems sketchy, but it’s better than dying.” I use my poles to push my skis forward until I have enough momentum to ski over to the hut.
“How is it sketchy?” Caleb asks, coming in hot behind me.
“You planned to have a sleepover on the mountain the entire time, and you didn’t even tell me.”
“No, I said it was a backup plan. Just in case.”
He gets to the padlock on the door and removes his glove, punching in the code.
I glance up at the hut. It’s small. A twelve-by-twelve cabin with a metal roof and a few windows that are covered by snow drift. The San Juan Mountain Range rises and falls all around us, with snow-covered pine trees towering over our heads. It’s majestic, even in a blizzard. Quiet and peaceful. And if I let my mind run wild, I would call it romantic. But I’m not letting my mind run wild. I’m not going to think about all the ways being snowed in a mountain hut with a manly man like Caleb Davidson is romantic. I’m not going to think about the cozy fire or the dim lighting. I’m not even going there. Because five other strangers will be with us in this hut. It’s a backcountry skiing adventure, not a page out of a romance novel.
twenty-eight
CALEB
I throwanother log on the fire, sparking it to life. “Is that better?”
I glance over my shoulder at Summer holding both her hands in front of the flames, gathering as much warmth as she can. Her beanie and coat are off, leaving just a white long-sleeve thermal shirt under her mint snow bibs. She ran her fingers through her hair a bunch of times, trying to fluff it up after wearing a hat all day. But then, finally, she gave up and tossed all her hair to one side, creating that perfect little wave that matches her fun-loving personality.
“Yeah, the fire’s great. I won’t freeze to death after all.”
“I brought us some food.” I set my backpack on the table between us and dig through it.
“I don’t know, Davidson. The more you say, the more this doesn’t sound like a backup plan. You came a little too prepared.”
I love how Summer calls meDavidsonsometimes. Is that something reserved just for me or a habit from her relationship with the other Davidson brother? I’m telling myself it’s just amething.
“Every smart adventurer never leaves home without the proper gear, including food, for the journey. So, yes, I am prepared, but not in the way you think.”
“Sure.” She smirks at me, and I smirk right back.
“If you’re going to give me attitude, I don’t have to share my sustenance with you.”
“Fine. I’ll behave.” She peeks over the edge of my bag. “What did you bring?”
I pull out a small box of Cinnamon Life cereal.
Summer’s gaze flicks to me. The reflection of the fire makes her already animated eyes dance.
“Did you really bring cold cereal up the mountains?”
“I did.” I pull out a metal canteen full of milk. “It’s the only way to go.”
“Most people pack baked beans or protein, but not you. You bring empty carbs.”
“I mean, it is calledLife. I don’t think anything can be more sustaining than that.” I pour her a bowl and top it off with milk. “For the lady.”
“Thank you.”
